


You Fool, There Are Rules

by SignificanttOtter



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Ficlet, Gambit (Destiny), Gen, old men arguing in the ascendant plane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27447334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SignificanttOtter/pseuds/SignificanttOtter
Summary: Drifter makes a curious acquaintance on a routine trip to the Ascendant Plane.
Relationships: drifter & toland
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	You Fool, There Are Rules

A bearded man strolled the ascendant plane, rifle on his back and revolver at his waist. In his bag he carried electronic equipment, kit-bashed from looted awoken tech and his own inventions, and motes of dark. His mission today, same as always, was to study the inhabitants of this realm. He had no qualms about guardians unleashing taken on each other, but wanted to keep tabs on what they were dealing with. Not much use having a game whose pieces were a mystery.

Everything considered, he had become accustomed to the shifting, shuttering non-reality of the ascendant plane. He walked it with a cautious confidence one might expect for a particularly dodgy part of the City, or the Tangled Shore; never letting his guard down, but never showing fear, either. His trips here had become routine enough to become boring, for which he was thankful.

But some things did give him the creeps, loathe as he was to admit it to himself. The way that paths sometimes appeared and disappeared. Volleys of debris hurdling to and from unknown points. Flickers of light revealing unfamiliar forms. On previous visits, he’d sworn he saw a light following him. Felt that it was watching … that it was thinking. He’d pushed down those feelings, assured himself he was only spooking himself with stories of trapped souls. There was no such thing, after all.

So his blood ran cold when, as he readied himself to leave the plane, the ball of light dashed before him and spoke: “WHO ARE YOU?”

“Who wants to know?” he spilled out, hardly able to register his shock.

“Toland. Before I shed my mortal form, I was called The Shattered.”

Drifter’s heart skipped a beat. Everyone and their mother had heard the tale of the mad, exiled warlock who’d died in the disastrous raid on Crota’s fortress. Not as many had heard the story that he died betraying his fireteam for an audience with Ir Yut, or the legend that he had been cleaved, soul from body, by her song. Sure, guardians had their claims of letters and eyewitness tales, but Drifter had never taken the gossip seriously. Until now.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Drifter drawled, sounding more impressed than he meant.

“You will be if you continue to tread here,” Toland replied, voice shifting from haughty to downright smug. “I have watched you study the taken. I have seen you lure them from this plane to your own. What power do you wield to command them?”

So the lunatic had been watching him this whole time. He smiled just a little at the idea he’d managed to capture the attention of one of history’s most infamous guardians. 

“With these,” he replied, producing a mote of dark from his bag, “This here’s concentrated darkness. They go nuts for it! Might as well be taken chow.”

The flickering, darting form moved closer, inspected the gleaming black pyramid in Drifter’s fingers. “For what purpose?”

“Little game I call gambit. Guardians always lookin’ for thrills, and nothing’s more thrilling than throwin’ abominations at one another. At least that’s what they think, hah!”

The spark dipped. Kept itself focused on him. “You mean to tell me this is for amusement? Have you any idea what you’re doing, guardian?”

The presumption was enough to raise Drifter’s hackles. “Look, just ‘cause I got the light don’t make me a guardian. And _'course_ I know what I’m handling. Wouldn’t be here talkin’ to you if I didn’t.”

“You would not set foot here if you did!” His bobbing became more frenzied as if for emphasis. “There is a shape to this place you do not understand. Rules you cannot comprehend. If you had any idea of the danger—!”

“You guardians really are all the same. So concerned about followin’ the rules. So interested in tellin’ other people what to do.” His voice lowered, “So eager to die over stupid bulls—”

“I did not die!” Toland’s interrupted urgently. “I was remade.”

“Yeah …” Drifter cocked his head to the side. He might’ve been remade into something, but whatever it was looked pretty dead from Drifter’s perspective. “ _Sure._ ”

“You violate a sacred space. You steal minions from the Witch Queen. Your trespass will not go unnoticed or unanswered.”

“I’ve been at this long enough I’d say it has. 'sides, I got buddies who have a taste for hive god blood. If SAVATHUN—” he shouted, voice echoing off the rocky outcrops, “wants to finally show her face an’ have a go, I’m sure they’d oblige her.”

“You tempt unknown horror with your recklessness. You will not be the only one to reap the bitter fruits of your foolishness—”

Drifter sighed and rubbed a grimy, gloved palm to his forehead. Started to wonder whether The Vanguard had gotten rid of Toland over his obsessive study of hive arcana, or because he never shut up. “Look, I’m out, buddy. If you see the Witch Queen tell'er hi for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr as a part of a [lyric prompt challenge](https://synnthamonsugar.tumblr.com/post/630878787383574528/lord-huron-lyric-prompts).


End file.
